


Night Terrors

by kitrinlu



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-13
Updated: 2010-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-11 17:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitrinlu/pseuds/kitrinlu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Storms, stories and a moment between siblings</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Terrors

Viserys shot bolt upright in bed, heart pounding. He could hear the wind howling outside, and the hammering of rain on the roof. Suddenly there was a flash of lightning, followed by a roll of thunder that seemed to echo around the room. He fought the desire to burrow under the covers and block his ears. _I am the blood of the dragon_ , he repeated to himself, trying hard to believe it. _I fear nothing_.  
  
 _I fear nothing_. Certainly not a wild summer storm, despite the memories it brought back - his mother's screams cutting through the thunder, fading away until there was only silence. A silence that was finally broken by the wailing of a babe, a hope for the future who had destroyed the last link to their past. They hadn't let him see his mother afterwards, despite his demands. Instead they had shown him his sister, a misshapen thing, tiny and red and wrinkled, barely a person at all. _'You must take care of her,'_ they said, helpless and hopeless. _'You are all she has.'_  
  
As if in answer to his thoughts, a frightened wail rose above the pounding of the rain, an eerie echo of the past that set his heart hammering. He lay back down, wrapping himself in his bedclothes, determined to ignore it. Another flash-crash from outside - the storm must be directly overhead - and the wailing came even louder. Gritting his teeth, Viserys rose, throwing on the shirt and breeches he had discarded on the floor. The magister with whom they were staying had been pleased to welcome the rightful ruler of Westeros, the last of the dragons, but would not be so happy when woken in the night by the dragon's young sister.  
  
Daenerys' room was just down the corridor from his. Snatching a lit torch from the wall sconce on his way past, he entered her chamber, holding the light high. Dany was not immediately visible, but a shaking lump under the bedclothes gave him a fair idea of her location. He drew the bedclothes back, revealing a fearful face covered in tears and snot. She whimpered softly and held out her arms to him.  
  
"Clean yourself up," Viserys muttered, ignoring her outstretched arms. "You are the blood of the dragon, remember? You fear nothing." Daenerys complied, scrubbing her face on the bedclothes and trying to swallow her sobs.  
  
"'Serys." Her voice shook. "Stay with me?"  
  
He hesitated for a moment, then gingerly perched on the edge of her bed. She flung her arms around him, burrowing her face into his chest. Another flash of lightning made her gasp, and he could feel the hitches in her breathing as she tried to keep herself under control.  
  
"Almost three hundred years ago," he began, his voice calm and soothing, "there lived a man named Aegon, who would be called Aegon the Conqueror. He was the lord of Dragonstone, the pride of the Targaryens. His sisters, Rhaenys and Visenya, were beautiful and strong, fierce warriors in their own right. Together they were the guardians of the dragons, the finest beasts of their kind the world has ever seen."  
  
Viserys could feel his sister start to relax, and continued to tell his tale, occasionally pausing while the thunder rumbled. "The greatest of the dragons was Balerion, the Black Dread. Large enough to swallow a mammoth whole, he could destroy a town before the villagers even realised he was overhead. Rhaenys' dragon was Meraxes, whose scales sparkled green as emeralds in the sunlight. Meraxes was the bravest of the dragons, always eager to charge ahead. The last dragon was Vhagar, smallest but fastest, and still large enough to eat a horse without having to chew.  
  
"Now, Aegon was a master tactician, and he had a plan. The kingdoms of Westeros were ripe for the picking, and..." Viserys trailed off. Daenerys' breathing was deep and even, and she no longer clung to him like a drowning man to a plank of wood. She was fast asleep.  
  
Standing, he extricated himself from her arms and arranged the covers over her. He leaned over and kissed her damp forehead. "Blood of the dragon," he whispered. "Sleep well, sweet sister."


End file.
